On the other foot
by sammyjaredgirl
Summary: Dean takes advantage of Sam's pushover nature.  Sam's had enough.


"Where the fuck is Dean?"

Sam frowned at his watch. It was past midnight. How long does quality time take anyway? Sam would have just gone to sleep but his idiot brother refused to take a key. And Sam had to stay awake to let the fool in. That's it, thought Sam, if he isn't back in ten minutes, its lights off. Almost on cue, there was rapid knocking on the door, followed by an impatient, baritone "Sammy!"

"Asshole," Sam muttered, getting up. By the time, he had gotten to the door he was smirking.

"Who is it?" he sang. For a few seconds, he got no reply but Dean is not known to ever be at a loss for words. Even Alaister could testify to that.

"It's your fairy godmother, fuckface. Open the damn door."

"No" came the curt reply. Sam was suddenly not sleepy anymore.

"Stop screwing around, Sammy. I'm tired."

"So?" Sam was trying very hard to keep the grin out of his voice.

"So? So I need to get into the room because my bed happens to be there."

"You don't need a bed to sleep, Dean. You're a great big manly man. There are plenty of flat surfaces out there. Have a nice night."

"Sam, you little bitch." Dean's voice had an edge to it, "Open the damn door, right now."

"Why are you shouting at me, Dean?" Sam tried to sound wronged and hurt.

"I'm not shouting at you." Dean was scandalized, because in truth, he really didn't shout. Sam was just messing with him on purpose.

"Yes, you are. See you're doing it again."

"Listen to me, you little shit; if you don't open the door in five seconds, I'm going to kick it in."

"Suit yourself, you whoring lush."

Dean took a step back and in three seconds (not five, because Dean is an enthusiastic breaker of rules) he flew forward and kicked the door. The door looked a little damaged, but it was still intact. Dean's foot, however, ached. The little bastard must have put something heavy in front of the door. Dean took a few moments to let the pain dull before he turned back to the door.

"Alright, Sammy." Dean growled, "What's wrong? PMS getting you down? Why won't you let me in?"

"Because you're a douchebag" Sam was being vague on purpose.

"What did I do to hurt you delicate feelings now, Elizabeth?"

The snark was met with no reply. Dean marinated in his anger for awhile until finally, he did raise his voice.

"Sammy!"

"What?" came the irritatingly calm reply. Sam was lying on the bed, he had pushed in front of the door, grinning like a maniac.

"Answer me, when I'm talking to you, dammit."

"But I thought you were talking to Elizabeth."

"Oh, for crying out loud- ow!"

"Dean?" Sam sat bolt upright, not grinning anymore.

"Sammy!" The name came out like a guttural gasp, "Help me"

Within seconds the bed was pushed away, and the door was opened. Sam found Dean clutching his abdomen, his face agony-stricken. Sam rushed forward to gather his big brother into his arms, vendetta giving way to guilt. I'm a horrible person, he thought.

Suddenly, he was flung out of the way. Dean ran into the room and locked the door. A thud against the door indicated that he was using Sam's bed tactic. Sam stood there bewildered and fuming.

"I can't believe I fell for that." he gasped.

"I can't believe you fell for that." Dean hollered, from behind the door, "It's a miracle you managed not to get your ass kicked in college."

Dean got no reply. Again. Boy, was that irritating. Dean went to the window and peeped outside. He saw the Impala. He saw Sam. He saw a rock in Sam's hand. Oh shit! Dean decided his baby was more important than a motel bed. By the time, he skidded to a halt in front of the car, Sam was poised, rock-bearing hand held over the love of Dean's life.

"What the fuck, Sam? My baby has nothing to do with this fight. She's innocent. Let her go?"

"All's fair in love and war, Dean"

"Sam, you don't wanna do this. Put the rock down. We can talk about it. Fuck, I don't even know why we're at war. All I wanted to do was go to bed."

"That's just it. You are so inconsiderate. You take me for granted. I do the laundry. I do the research. I have to stay awake to let you in after you've… y'know… had a date."

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn't risk laughing. His baby was at this maniac's mercy.

"I'm sorry." Dean tried to sound sincere, but failed, "how can I make it up to you?"

"You will suffer a two week punishment. _You_ will do the research. _You_ will do the laundry. _And_ you will not expect me to be awake when you saunter in at ungodly hours of the morning. That last one is not a two week thing. That's a forever thing. Got it?"

"One hundred per cent loud and clear." said Dean, stealing nervous glances at the sleek dark beauty next to Sam.

"And," Sam watched Dean deflate as he said the word (did he really think it was gonna be that easy), "I keep the car keys for those two weeks."

"WHAT?"

"Now Dean," Sam was practically growling, "Don't startle me. Or I might accidentally drop this rock."

"Please Sam. Think logically. How am I supposed to drive without the keys?"

"I drive."

"Excuse me."

"For the next two weeks, you sit in the bitch seat and I drive. Pass me the keys now or I'll disfigure her."

"No no no." Dean shakily handed the keys to Sam and looked at the hostage, sighing. "Can I have a moment with her… alone?"

Sam suppressed the urge to gawk at Dean's melodrama. Instead he decided to rub it in.

"Thirty seconds and no more. She's officially mine for the next fourteen days. But bond later. You still have to do the vow."

"The what."

"Even though, you word is shit, I want you to make a few promises. Now raise your right hand."

"Oh come on Sammy."

"Do it. Or else." Sam still hadn't gotten rid of the rock. He's not dumb. Dean raised his hand, looking around stealthily. He felt like a spectacle (and not in a good way) and, at that moment, a guffawing audience would have mortified him. During the course of the silly oath however, Dean started to smirk.

Sam: Repeat after me. I swear never to call Sammy a girl.

Dean: I swear never to call Sammy a girl.

Sam: I will never embarrass Sammy in front of people.

Dean: I will never embarrass Sammy in front of people.

Sam: And Sammy doesn't play with dolls.

Dean: And Sammy doesn't play with dolls.

Sam: And I will let him pick the music every other day.

Dean: And I will let him pick the music every other day.

Sam: And…uh…uh…

Sam squished his eyes trying to remember all the other things that Dean does to piss him off. But his left brain was already taking a nap and his right brain was looking on longingly.

"Okay, that's all." Sam gives up, before adding "And why are you grinning?"

Dean walks up to Sam and places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's Sam, actually." Dean's lopsided smile doesn't hold an ounce of pride in it "You warming up to the name I gave you. Thanks Sammy. You just made my night."

Dean turned and walked away and Sam waited for the catch. It didn't come.


End file.
